


Remorse is Memory Awake

by phaelsafe



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phaelsafe/pseuds/phaelsafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It must have something to do with his newly acquired guardianship. The next time he enters his memories, he isn't cast back into his own body. Instead, he finds he's standing behind himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse is Memory Awake

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, well, this is inspired by (broken link)[this pic](http://ayaneninja.tumblr.com/post/36369383865/erm-frostcest-ahahah-d). Title from Emily Dickinson.

It must have something to do with his newly acquired guardianship. The next time he enters his memories, he isn't cast back into his own body. Instead, he finds he's standing behind himself, a few hours before his fateful fall through the ice at the lake. 

Jack is busy piling recently chopped wood onto the stack, and he swipes the back of his hand across his sweating brow. Frost reaches across the short distance, uncertain of whether he is substantial here or not, and grazes his fingers across the back of Jack's neck. 

Jack startles, his back going rigid, and then he slowly turns to face Frost. "What the hell- _who_ the hell are you?" 

"I'm you, and you're me," Frost claims, his own surprise melting into a smirk. 

"You do look like me, and I know I'm so dashing and all," Jack says, his expression mirroring Frost's exactly, charmed just as much as he is charming. Then distrust fills his eyes and he backs away. "Too much like me. How do I know you're not an evil spirit trying to trick me into... I don't know, something dreadful." 

"It's... well, that's kind of hard to explain," Frost says. He tilts his head, his eyebrows twitching as he thinks. Then he snorts. So much time has passed; he had forgotten just how superstitious they had all been, but that's how legends are started. 

Frost swings his staff up, catching Jack before he can get out of range, and taps him playfully on the nose. Tiny plumes of frost dart across winter-faded freckles. Jack shakes away the nipping chill, then wipes away the melted water with his sleeve. His eyes dart back up, and he watches Frost warily. 

"Ok, yeah, I am a spirit. Sort of. But I'm chaotic and fun – certainly not evil," Frost explains, but he's obviously doing a poor job of it since Jack looks increasingly like he's going to bolt. "I'm a Guardian." 

Jack's eyes rove around for an escape route, and Frost realizes that the title means little within the realm of humans. He rolls his eyes, adding, "We're going to take our sister skating later. We haven't offered yet, but she really wants to go. Dad wants us to wait because he thinks the lake hasn't had enough time to freeze all the way through. We think we know better." 

"How do you- but your hair is white, and my eyes are brown. How are we..." Jack trails off, still reluctant, but he steps forward, and his hesitation is slowly replaced with wonder. His hands come up and he trails his fingers through Frost's hair and down the bridge of his nose, fanning across his cheekbones. 

The heat that seeps into Frost's skin shocks him, and he tries to pull away, but Jack curls his palms around his face and holds him still. Other than the hug from Jamie, and any brief contact he's had with the other Guardians, Frost hasn't been touched in centuries, hasn't even held a real conversation with another sentient creature. 

Jack watches him, seems to understand on on some level because he catches Frost's gaze as he skims hands down pale, cold skin. Frost remembers being too inquisitive for his own good – still is – and he shudders as warm fingers slip beneath the edge of hoodie, his undershirt, thumbs caressing the dip between his collarbones before curving around where his neck meets shoulder. 

"The spirit of fun, huh?" Jack says, the curiosity in his eyes sparking into something more. 

That's all Frost needs, and he tugs gently on his staff, hooking Jack in closer as he tangles his hand in dark chestnut-colored hair. 

\------ 

Tooth shoots him a concerned look the next time she sees him, but she doesn't ask why he hasn't returned his teeth to her.


End file.
